The French fought for a barren strip of brown plateau that, gained, would be of little use or profit to them; he thought that he did much the same, that his future was much like those arid sand-plains, these thirsty, verdureless stretches of burned earth--very little worth the reaching.
The heavy folds of a Bedouin's haick, brushing the papers off the bench, broke the thread of his musings.

As he stooped for them, he saw that one was an English journal some weeks old.

His own name caught his eye--the name buried so utterly, whose utterance in the Sheik's tent had struck him like a dagger's thrust.

The flickering light and darkness, as the awning waved to and fro, made the lines move dizzily upward and downward as he read--read the short paragraph touching the fortunes of the race that had disowned him: "The Royallieu Succession .-- We regret to learn that the Rt.

Hon.
Viscount Royallieu, who so lately succeeded to the family title on his father's death, has expired at Mentone, whither his health had induced him to go some months previous.